


The Seine

by guineamania



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Challenge fic, Gen, Grantaire mourns, OC death, Poetry, could be seen as pre-e/R
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 02:46:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3364853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guineamania/pseuds/guineamania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a One-Million-Words challenge and based off the poem The Mirabeau Bridge by Guillaume Apollinaire.<br/>Enjolras had never seen Grantaire cry ... it was unnerving, he should stop now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Seine

**Author's Note:**

> This turned depressing, I don't know when but it just did.

Enjolras was on drunk duty this weekend. Everytime they went out as a group one person was nominated to look after those he were overly drunk and this time it was Enjolras’ job. That’s why he found himself strolling through the freezing Paris night looking for Grantaire. He had disappeared, wasn’t home and wasn’t answering his phone. Enjolras rolled his eyes as he rubbed his gloved hands together in a desperate attempt to generate warmth. This was the last thing he wanted to be doing on a night in the middle of Febuary. It didn’t help that it was Valentine’s Day so every alley way contained at least one couple in a compromising position. 

Thankfully it only took ten more minutes before he located Grantaire. He was sat on the barrier of a bridge over the Seine, staring calmly out over the glistening water. It didn’t look like he was really drunk. As Enjolras approached he could hear the artist muttering under his breath. “Under the Mirabeau Bridge flows the Seine,” he whispered, swinging his legs over the abys. “And our loves, must I remember them joy always followed after pain,” he continued, not looking up as Enjolras sat next to him.   
“Let the night fall and the hours ring. The days go away, I remain,” Enjolras continued the poem, finally drawing Grantaire’s attention. The drunkard’s eye were rimmed with red and his hair was more dishevelled than usual. “Are you okay?” Enjolras enquired, unsure of what to do. He was never very good at emotions and Grantaire seemed to make that even worse.   
“My little sister died,” Grantaire stated with an emotionless mutter. Enjolras’ heart twisted and he stuttered over his words for the first time in his life. 

“She had leukaemia and it was only a matter of time. Whenever she was allowed out of the hospital we would sit here and I would tell her that poem,” Grantaire sobbed, leaning on Enjolras’ shoulder as he cried. All Enjolras could do was sit there and hold the man he believed was invincible. Ever since they had meet Enjolras admired Grantaire for his strength, not that he would ever tell him that of course. No matter what life threw at him he just brushed it off and continued on his way like nothing had happened. Grantaire fumbled around in his pocket and pulled out a photo, offering it to Enjolras tenderly. It was of a young girl, probably around six years old, sat curled round a giant teddy bear. The resemblance between Grantaire and this girl was startling apart from the fact she lacked any of Grantaire’s brown curls. Enjolras smiled slightly before handing it back. “She was my idol,” Grantaire whispered, tears still streaming down his cheeks. “She taught be to always be strong and as long as you are alive everything can be fixed so whatever goes wrong don’t grieve,” he added with a sad smile.   
“You should do what she said,” Enjolras stated bluntly. “She would want you to go on living but now live for two people.”

They fell back into silence. It was only a couple of minutes before Grantaire broke it again, rubbing the tears out of his eyes. “Hand in hand let us stay face to face while underneath the bridge of our arms passes the so-slow wave of eternal looks. Let the night fall and the hours ring, the days go away, I remain. Love goes away like this flowing water. Love goes away. How slow life is. How violent hope is. Let the night fall and the hours ring the days go away, I remain. The days pass and the weeks pass, neither past time, nor past loves return. Under the Mirabeau Bridge flows the Seine.”


End file.
